


Under The Bleachers

by PlayTheRain



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:07:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayTheRain/pseuds/PlayTheRain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is bad and you should not read it.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Under The Bleachers

**Author's Note:**

> This is bad and you should not read it.

TT: What if we’re not good at kissing when we get girlfriends?  
TT: We should practice kissing so that when we get girlfriends, we’re total casanovas.  
GT: Ha ha, heavens, wouldn’t that be something grand?

Dirk swore under his breath. Above them, birds were crying in the blue sky. The summer sun lazed above the bleachers, recreating that particular mood that is unique of long summer days were everything seems slow and unreal and so alive at the same time.

GT: Tell me again why we are hiding under these blasted bleachers and whistling sweet dixie out of our bum holes while watching two lasses run in circles?  
TT: We’re waiting for cotton candy to happen.  
TT: Hey, shut it, it's not your turn.  
GT: Not my what?  
TT: Nothing. I mean, we’re looking at Jane and Roxy in a grant performance. This relay race is a metaphor of their running in circles with each other. The baton is the blinding truth that is too hot to handle. Their failing endurance is their collapsing pretense of a platonic relationship about to explode like a steam engine and fog up a thousand bedroom windows in the future.  
GT: So let me guess, its funny because its ironic?  
TT: Yes. You are now welcomed to roll on the floor laughing.  
GT: Well its working! Im laughing my caboose STRAIGHT OFF THE TRACKS!  
TT: Did a lot of families just died in the tragic derailment?  
GT: Oh you have no idea. All of the families have died. Humanity is now a bunch of ruins, such that a thousand adventures would not be enough to explore them all. Nor would there be enough bullets!

Jake punched Dirk on the shoulders and chuckled. Dirk started to fidget strangely.

TT: Hey. Speaking of adventures. I’ve been thinking. Well. If you want to listen. I have a proposition.  
TT: Shit this is embarrassing to watch, just let me take my fucking turn.  
GT: Take what turn? And why are you doing your ventriloquism thing? Because if you think it’s supposed to impress me well, golly gosh, look! Ha ha! Look at how impressed i am! I’m blushing like a schoolgirl. There ain’t a soul that can blush a good one like i do. Hey what’s wrong?  
TT: Nothing. I was saying. No, you were saying. Talking about adventures. Yeah you were talking about adventures and here I was like "shit there goes a lad who knows an adventure when he sees one", right? Well you’re in luck buddy, I was just thinking of what would be the raddest thing ever.  
TT: Oh please.  
TT: Stop that. So I was saying, you know about adventures right? And you know how I’m such a super duper friend and we’re drowning in frienship and everything? Well how about we team up? You know, take our relationship to the next level. We could be a battle couple. A dynamic duo. Married to danger. A pair of badass soul mates that don’t say no to trouble. What I mean is, we could go out together and have some fun. We’re fucking bros, right?  
TT: Ha ha that last one is gold.  
TT: Fuck you. So what do you think Jake English? You think you can handle me, though guy?  
GT: Dirk.  
GT: I know what this is about.  
TT: Oh shit you do?  
  
Dirk looked as if he was about to die. He clutched his heart and look to his left and to his right, as if he was a prince and there was a revolution knocking at the door.  
  
GT: Oh for frigs flipping sake dirk this is no time for your prudish pedantry! I’m not friggin blind. Of course i can notice what is burning as hot as the sun. I’m always talking about adventures, and talking about how much fun I’m having by myself, and you're sitting there wondering how come i have so much fun without you. It’s normal that you would start thinking I’m neglecting you. And i'm discombobulated because i ought to have noticed a lot before that i was being a fool! What I mean is, you’re my pal. It means the world to me. We don't need to go on adventures together. I appreciate our continued friendship terribly much, and you know i don't dabble in irony so it's the truth of it. We'll always be friends.  
TT: Oh fuck yes! Friends! Oh boy!  
GT: Yes, comrades for life! if friendship was alcohol, i assure you, we’d both be more intoxicated than Lalonde’s entire family tree. I’m sorry if I can give the wrong impression somehow, and make it look my feelings on the matter are something else. I’m such an halfassed friend. Just let me drag my bisected bottom into a state of unironical apology. Hey are you alright?  
TT: I am perfectly alright. My alright levels have reached full satiety. I am now going on cruise control with neverending alrightness.  
GT: Well forgive my botherations, it’s just that sometimes you become so aloof and extra technical and automoton like.  
TT: Yeah it makes me wonder who’s the real one and who is glasses.  
GT: The lasses? What about them? Well i guess they're still running.  
TT: Good, let them run their tight asses off. At least they’re going somewhere.  
TT: It seems we both agree that there is an unfathomable probabilistic chance that this conversation is going absolutely fucking nowhere. That’s it. I’m going 2001 Space Odysey on your ass. Don't say a fucking word from now on.  
GT: You dont wanna talk anymore? Something wrong?  
TT: The only thing wrong here is the two girls over there. Just look at them, if it was possible for something to be so ironic that it loops back to being stupid again then they'd be doing it. These gals fell into the rabbit hole and now they’re stuck and the White Rabbit is furiously consulting its clock because the cotton candy party is awfully late. Meanwhile, the Mad Hatter is holding on to the carpet and clams while wondering where everybody is. And that’s because they’re right over there, being loosy and boring. Unlike us.  
GT: It looks like they fell again during the baton pass.  
TT: Ha ha ha, high five!

Under the bleachers, two boys are doing a high-five and then one boy rushes the other and mounts on top of him, holding his hands tightly.  
  
GT: Ha ha, what are you doing Dirk? Why are we holding hands?  
TT: We are not holding hands.  
TT: We are constantly high-fiving.  
TT: This is what bros do nowadays.  
TT: They all do it, no exception.  
TT: It's just us being rad.  
GT: Well it’s kind of not sitting well with my personal comfort, youre all over me!  
TT: Okay. No. Stop. Jake, there’s something I have to say.  
TT: Zip it. It’s my show now.  
GT: What?  
TT: WRESTLING TIME.

Under the bleachers and lost in the head of a lazy summer afternoon, two boys are wrestling under bleachers. Everything in the world seems to stop existing for them except for two bodies grunting and pushing against each others. And then, satiated, Jake English pulls away. His friend immediately seems bothered.

GT: Well golly good I must smell like such a mess, and that’s that!  
TT: Jake English, you are a dashing motherfucker. You can’t smell bad. You only smell like teenage spunk and infinite dopeness and bratty attitude that turns me into jelly in the most ironical of manners.  
GT: T-Thanks.  
TT: You smell like adventure and badasserie like in your action movies.  
TT: You smell like hormones going in all the wrong direction.  
TT: But it’s okay buddy.  
TT: We can be wrong together.  
GT: Thanks…I think?

Dirk stood in silence, as if urging to say something but never giving in. He smacked his hand against his face, sighed, took a deep breath, returned to being totally cool, attempted to say something and went back to hesitating and withdrawing away. He smacked his face once more in desperation. 

TT: You know what we are?  
TT: We’re two peas in a cozy little fucking pod.  
TT: We are fuckdeep in friendship.  
TT: Broseidon, King of the Brocean, is giving us the double-thumbs up.  
TT: That’s how awesome we are together.  
TT: And it’s all because you’re such a swell, adventurous badass.  
GT: Youre awfully complimentary today.  
TT: Only because of how radically dope you are.  
TT: It’s only natural.  
TT: If my heart was uranium and you needed it for inscrutable adventurous reasons.  
TT: I’d tear it from my chest and give it to you.  
TT: Cuz that’s how I roll.  
GT: Well I don’t know what to say.  
TT: Then don’t say a thing and burst some sweet moves, because if wrestling was a science then you’re about to get schooled back into the dark age.

If there’s one thing that can be said of Jake English, it is that he does not turn his face from a wrestling challenge. Soon, the boys are rolling on the ground again, pushing, grabbing, grinning, red in the face, chuckling and lost in a haze of muscular focus. Jake doesn’t notice when the hands go lower, open his trousers, rub him, caress him. Fingertips lift his shirt, graze his boyish abs and lingers on them like it was a piano waiting to be played. Jake breaths more and more heavily, moans, and shudders when his erection is freed from his pants and lingers in the warm air. In barely a few seconds, another pairs of pants seems to magically slide down, and wrestling starts anew, engorged cocks rubbing against each other with each trust and push. With sudden realization of things not feeling quite normal, Jake grabs window of respite.

GT: Woah... I just... What the devilfucking dickens...  
GT: Dirk, i’m starting to understand why your automatons wrestle in such awkward manner. You just have... a weird grasp...  
TT: Of how to wrestle... you do it all wrong...  
TT: Then we just need to do it more often.  
GT: I just...  
TT: See Jake, we understand each other. You love wrestling, well shit I’m willing to learn.  
TT: Just a man, his best buddy, and bodies against bodies as far as the timeline can see. Sounds like you died and went to fucking heaven if you asked me.   
TT: And I’m going to be perfectly honest now. It’s because you deserve it. For being such a fucking dope friend that rocks at everything. You’re going to be swimming in bitches in no time, believe me. And I'll be behind you and giving you a thumbs up.  
GT: But this is becoming heated...  
TT: don't worry, bros don’t fuck.  
TT: But.  
TT: But bros can do things ironically. Just for fun. If things happen, we just let them and we roll with it. So stop worrying about nothing and shut off your brain.

Jake seems as if he couldn’t make head or tail of it. He squeezed a little in Dirk’s wrestling hold, his penis chafing against. clothes. He gasped and said nothing.

TT: Look at me Jake. Look at me.

Dirk hesitantly cupped his hand under the Jake’s shin and pressed the boyish face towards face. The light fell in lines between the bleachers, illuminating Jake English’s wild and natural good looks. His inquiring expression only added to how his fair and frank expression. Dirk swallowed a large gulp. He wanted to push him down and ride him raw, right there. He tried to control his breathing, while Jake looked at him in amusement. His breathing also increased with intensely in unison to his: slowly, increasingly and excitedly.

GT: Yes i know.   
GT: Youre doing the ridonkulous ventriloquist thing.   
GT: Youve been doing it since forever. You don’t need to drag my attention to it.

TT: Look at me Jake.

Dirk’s droning voice enunciated every word with a dictative emphasis. At the same time, Dirk leaned forward toward Jake’s face, his brow torn apart in conflict by his hesitations and his boiling hormones whispering YES YES YES incessantly.

TT: Look at my face.

The droning voice had a strange tone that hit exactly the right tone to lull Jake English into a silent state of attention. Dirk’s eyebrows twitched with restraints.

TT: I am fucking yaoi.

Dirk’s eyebrows shot upward as if they wanted to escape his face. His hands, white-knuckled, grabbed Jake’s shoulder like tomorrow wasn’t a thing. It looks as if he feared he would cover his face if he let go of his hands.

GT: Woah.

The two boys fell all over each other. Before the dark haired fellow could take a hold on himself, the blonde lad was mouting him, their cock still half-erected and waiting for orders.

GT: Dirk?

The glasses of the fair-haired boy glimmered as stratified light fell upon them. The boy’s mouth was half-open as if left wanting in desire. It looked like he was gazing at something that he craved more than any drug, more than anything he ever wanted. He looked surprised himself at how bad it was even possible to want something. His hands gripped harder and harder on Jake’s shoulders. His hip trusted forward and their cock frotted together. Jake flinched a little. Dirk’s voice droned on.

TT: I am so fucking yaoi for you, can’t you see?  
GT: You are what? What is this cockamamie goofoff now?  
TT: We are ironically fuckdeep into anime bullshit as infinite as my showers.  
TT: I just need to flash a badass grin and shit the background is now flowers.

A bouquet of red roses exploded from Dirk’s sylladex. The flowers seem suspended in the air for a fraction of a second before scattering around them.

GT: What in the devil dickens! Golly geez!  
TT: Okay what the shit, when did you hack my sylladex?  
GT: What was that, who hacked who? And what’s with the flowers?  
TT: I said, when did you hack into my heart? Because my backdoor is white open and it’s time you take responsibility.  
GT: Dirk, you know I don’t understand a thing you’re saying and yet you just keep going. Where is this all leading? What are we going to do on this flower bed?  
TT: Fuck you, Jake English.  
GT: Well fuck you too.

Dirk growled like a beast.

TT: That wasn’t part of my script but that exchange was hot as fuck so I’ll let it pass.  
GT: What script?  
TT: The script for the play we’re ironically rehearsing.  
TT: it only has two actors, an iron in the fire and a lot of horizontal dancing.  
GT: Oh so we’re dancing?   
GT: Is that how you call it when you clobber the everfriggin tar out of me, pull out my pants and sit on me?  
GT: And where is it leading, maestro?  


Dirk's fumbled with Jake's clothes, searched for the sturdy bod, explored the skin. His fingers traced down, grabbed the attention of Jake's cock and started playing with it, stroking it, fueling his fire. Jake grabbed Dirk's hand but did not pushed him away. The foreplay was melting Jake's mental defense and giving free reign to the build-up of teenage hormones within him that is begging for an outlet. And still the voice droned on.

TT: I could give you a where and a how and a thousand why’s but I’ll give you a when and that when is right now buddy. This is happening, and it’s now, and it’s real. I’m yours for the taking. I am positively uke for you right now.  
GT: I can... never tell when you’re serious.  
TT: I have never been more ironically serious in my life.  


Dirk’s coiled his body against Jake’s and their engorged cock rubbed again, producing a soft moan from either party before they could stop themselves. They breathed harder still, in and out, and in each other’s face. Their eyes locked into each other’s.

GT: Oh so this is more of your irony?  
TT: Bro, we are positively drowning in irony. We are under so many layers of lyrical pretend that even I have no idea what’s going anymore. So no more thinking. No more battering. Shhhhh. Let’s just let things happen.  


Despite the droning voice, Dirk stood completely frozen in place.

TT: Let me lean on to you.

Dirk's droning voice talked strangely, as if Dirk was giving orders to himself. He complied. Still gripping Jake’s shoulders’ as if it meant his life, Dirk’s body arched slowly upward with violent shaking. His butt hovered Jake’s engorged, rigid member.

TT: I...

Dirk growled, panting like an animal in heat. Then, without a word, Dirk coiled and put his face against Jake’s face. He intently rubbed his cheek against his cheek as if he needed this like drug. His behavior was much like a cat, begging to be touched and willing to forcefully rub himself fulfill this mindless craving. Dirk let out a long hiss through his teeth. Jake turned stark-red with blushing.

GT: Dirk...

Dirk’s voice droned on with impatience. 

TT: I said, let’s just let things happen and it’s here and it’s now and it’s real and if you don’t sit on that cock right now I swear to God, I’m going to hijack Brobot and squish you two together like a teenage girl smashing Ken and Barbie dolls.

Dirk look as if he didn’t have to think twice about it. His hands move so fast and ninja-like that it’s almost as if his pants did an acrobatic flip off from his legs; it was only a fraction of a second later that Dirk was lowering himself upon Jake’s rigid member. But this, he did slowly, with burning intensity, and both boys moaned louder than ever in unison as the large cock eagerly bit into the young flesh.

TT: Yeah I'm not gonna lie this is hot as all hell.

Jake, lost in overwhelming tactile sensations that he had never dreamed off before, feebly pushed his hands in front of him. They landed on Dirk’s face. Two fingers slipped into the cleft of Dirk’s mouth, as it lingered open with ecstasy, and Dirk sucked on them. He gave a push to his lower parts and pushed more of the cock inside him, and at the same time, let the fingers deeper into his mouth, as far as possible. He wanted to drown in Jake English.

GT: Dirk, I, I can't, oh god don't stop, never stop...

Jake flailed with his other hand and grabbed Dirk’s hair, caressing them lovely like he had reunited with a family pet that he never knew. Dirk shuddered. If human could purr, Dirk would be doing it with wild abandon. Instead, he hummed and trembled and made infinitely small movement of the hips as if they were moving of their own.

TT: Shit it's like we're entering teenage fanfiction.

Snapped back into reality by the droning voice, and suddenly instilled with the torrid desire to fuck, Dirk took upon himself the business to ride John English raw. Up and down he went, biting his lips, staring at Jake’s face as if it was the thing that he needed to live. Dirk’s mind made a painting of Jake’s expression, right there, in its mixture of pain and pleasure. Dirk framed it and put it over his heart so that he would never forget it. And still he fucked him with ever-increasing passion and uninhibited lust.

Jake didn’t have an opinion anymore. He was simply doing wrestling, except of a different kind, and it was an element he could get lost into. His back buckled with strain. He squeezed his butt cheeks. He trusted upward to meet Dirk whence he pushed down. He grew more in control, excited for a new kind of fight. He balled his fists, his hands failed around, he hit Dirk a little, grabbed his clothes, pulled his shirt off, hit him more without knowing why. Dirk didn’t flinch. His hip movement only increased in intensity, and he lowered his head as the finish line draw nearer. Jake met him in kind, putting his elbows on the ground, raising his torso. The boys realized that they were practically screaming inches from each other’s face as they reached climax. They grunted wordlessly for seconds that stretched into infinity and then they came.

Semen poured from one boy into another in deafening silence. Then they pushed each other away, out of breath, placated against the ground like fish out of water. They were turned toward each other, their arm extended, their elbow above their head, their hands touching by the tips of the fingers and their feet bumping against each other. 

If anybody was there to witness this scene from above, they would find quizzical that the position of their bodies made the crude shape of a heart.


End file.
